The Mysterious Fate #wattys2016

Lothlórien

Please read the author's note for disclaimer and explanation of this story.

I make no claims on Tolkien's works. I also give credit to Cormak3032.

At dawn, the Fellowship set out with renewed purpose. In their hearts they still grieved deeply for Gandalf. But there was a quest to fulfill, and they knew they had to carry on. They all had a purpose.

Except the woman.

Lana had found sleep difficult. Despite falling into a deep slumber, she woke with a feeling, not unlike a hangover. With the sunrise, she felt more withdrawn. It was a toss up between exhaustion and feeling like an outsider that caused her to focus inwardly.

She would speak only if spoken to, and if she did converse at all it was really only with Aragorn. Even that was limited for he had taken the lead while she tended to fall behind.

While her behavior was troubling, Aragorn had no time to dwell on the single problems of only one member of the group. He had hoped his words from the night before would have an impact on her, but she remained closed off.

For now, his mind was only for getting the travel-worn Fellowship to the Golden Wood as quickly as possible. The land began to change as they ran on. Rocky hillsides became softer and more trees started appearing. The sun was starting to set by the time they slowed their pace. Aragorn paused and ran his hand over the bark of one of the trees, almost in greeting. An eerie silence surrounded them.

Lana skidded to a halt as if she hit a physical barrier. She wasn't the only one to look about in wonder…or apprehension. There was the acute sense that they had stepped over a border of some sort. The air here felt…alive. She inched closer to Merry and Pippin.

The feeling she had come to associate with Legolas seemed to multiply by fifty—no, a hundred times. They were being watched. She knew it.

A golden light filtered through the trees and it was breathtaking—but otherworldly. Glancing at Legolas, Lana saw that he too was looking about in awe. Well, neither he or Aragorn seem concerned…

"Stick close young hobbits!" Gimli said, flagging Frodo and Sam closer. "They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods. An elf-witch of terrible power,"

Lana stared at the dwarf. An elf-witch? Where exactly was Aragorn taking them? After all that she had seen, she wouldn't put it past this world to have actual real witches.

"All who look upon her, fall under her spell," Gimli continued. "And are never seen again."

There was a breeze, like a breath on the wind. Lana saw Frodo pause unexpectedly with eyes widened. At least I'm not the only one! Lana could swear that she felt a presence hovering around her.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked in concern. Frodo just shook his head and continued to walk.

"Well, here's one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox—oh!"

Lana had only blinked and in that half-second they had become surrounded. The only sound had been the soft creaking of wood as twenty-odd bows were drawn back. She froze instinctively and she stared at the arrowhead that was just inches from her nose.

Not even Legolas was exempt. He must have drawn his bow at the same moment as their antagonists. He glanced about himself with a highly worried expression.

"The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark." The smooth voice sent shivers down Lana's spine. Gimli for his part growled and sent the speaker a dark glower. A commanding fair-haired elf stood just before Aragorn who greeted him in his own tongue.